PoeTry ThuRsDaY

There was a very hilarious episode this week on Seinfeld where George Costanza decides since nothing ever works out the way he wants, he is going to start doing the exact opposite of everything he would otherwise be inclined to do. Similarly, there is a line in a Hafiz poem somewhere that reads, "Change rooms in your mind for a day." Easier said than done I think, to see ourselves or a situation through the eyes of another, or step over our inner hurtles and blindspots long enough to really grasp a new vision, way of understanding, or a solution to an age old issue. Most of the time I try to convince myself I'm right, but every once in awhile, I can take Hafiz's advice, maybe not for a whole day but for a fleeting moment, and those are always the richest of moments. I've chosen the poem below by Robert Bly because it speaks to this process for me, and the often elusive goal I think we all have, or most of us anyway, to slip out of the habits and conditioning that make us less content, less truly empathetic, less kind, less brave, less bold, less everything really.

Things to Think

Think in ways you've never thought before.
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you've ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.

Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he's carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you've never seen.

When someone knocks on the door,
Think that he's about
To give you something large: tell you you're forgiven,
Or that it's not necessary to work all the time,
Or that it's been decided that if you lie down no one will die.

~ Robert Bly ~

 

 

HaPPy MeAtBaLLMas!

Every few months I get the call- "Come pick up your goodies." I hop in my car and drive the mile over to Laini's, where I retrieve a stash of Laini's Ladies that have been specially compiled for me from Laini's latest shipment from Bottman, carefully placed in multiple Trader Joes paper bags with my secret nickname scribbled across the corner. I place them in the backseat and I carefully, carefully drive home, the various assemblage of garden stakes and cards and ornaments jiggling in their paper packaging on their way to their new home! This time it was Laini's georgeous new holiday line of gift tags, tree ladies, sparkley ornaments, and more. "Its almost Christmas and Hanukkah!" I exclaimed to Gene as I drove home on my cell.

"No it isn't! Its still five months away!" he repled. There is something about August that feels like a trick, as if its stuck in the calendar just to dangle the holidays in front of us from a distance. Gene is right, its not around the bend at all. My next thought was "I don't want to wait until the day after Thanksgiving to start decorating!,"
followed by
"Oh I'll just head downstairs to look at all the holiday stuff!"
followed by
"I can't wait until then to decorate again!"
followed by
"I won't wait until then to decorate again!" And before I knew it, balls and menorahs and silver sparkly stars on string were being lifted out of their slumber, tissues and bubblewrap being pulled apart like taffy, lights untangled, brownies baked...I felt like Will Farrell in Elf when he stays at the department store all night long to decorate for Santa's visit the next day.

Once everything was assembled, I plopped down in the chair and thought, "Well that was dumb! Now you're going to have to put it all away again and you don't even have any egg nog!" But then I got totally into it, found my Charlie Brown Christmas CD, filled out more holiday cards left over from last year, and had a rehearsal Christmas/Hanukkah celebration of one at four o'clock in the afternoon. Now almost everything has been packed back up and the house looks all barren like it always does in January after everything has been packed back up in storage.

I feel inspired to create some new holidays! Any ideas? How about Left Foot Friday where we celebrate the left foot with strap on toe cherries? Or Gypsy Tuesday where you head to your local airport/subway/train/bus station and hop on the next mode of transportation no matter where its headed with nothing but cash? And of course, there should be a holiday devoted solely to the cupcake where every year you eat nothing but cupcakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and wear a huge hat made out of a gigantic cupcake. And obviously if there is going to be a holiday for cupcakes then there has to be one for meatballs, or we could combine them into one holiday and eat meatball cupcakes! There could be a holiday just for polka dots, another for stripes, and yet another for polyester. Imagine one day a year where everyone in the entire world wears polyester. There are infinite possibilities-please send yours! Happy Meatballmas to you!

WriTe the DamN BooK!

Wowee! Can a 34 year old grown woman still use exclamations such as these? It certainly sums up the past week at the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators Conference at the Century Plaza Hotel in Los Angeles that I attended with Laini and Jim. Four days stuffed with inspiration, some of the most successful editors and writers sharing their craft and tips, an auditorium filled every day with people like all of us who simply love stories and are ravenous to find a way to share their own. Its encouraging to see that editors like Arthur Levine (Editor/Publisher of Harry Potter), Mo Willems (Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus), Jane Yolen, Lisa Yee, David LaRochelle, and Melissa Sweet are just regular folks, some with balding heads, others with bony knees, itchy feet,and crampy tummies. They have dogs that won't stop barking, pounds to chuck, children to feed and potty train, chores to cross off lists, and bills to pay. I, who have neither dogs nor children, truly have no excuse not to finish one freaky book ! At one point during the conference, I actually made a list in my journal of how many children's books I had started and never ever finished in the last few year- 13! And this is only children's books! This doesn['t include my projects for adults!T-H-I-R-T-E-E-N! eek! ick! yikes! And thats just those that I could remember at that moment.

What I realized over the last week is that how I write is how I live. When I get stuck, I give up too easily. I learned that its not that the story has truly fallen apart. Its that my faith in myself has. This was a huge breakthrough for me I think, and I look forward to where this will lead. While I was there, I also had a new idea for a book that I really love and the best news for me is that its one of the shortest, funnest plots I've had, and its really quite realistic to think I can launch a new, to borrow a phrase from SARK, "habit of completion" with this one. Coming back to Portland, I gave up my airplane seat and in exchange got a free ticket good for anywhere in the US, Canada, or Mexico. On the shuttle between Burbank and LAX airports, and during my three hour wait, I scribbled away rewrites of this first draft and even jotted down sentences for its sequel, both picture book length.

So many moments I want to share, writers and books I had never previously heard of before this past week. One such one was Candie Moonshower, author of The Legend of Zoe. She described how at a particularly harrowing part in the writing of her book she fed her children three daily meals of pop-tarts (though she did justify it by adding they were different flavors each time!) There was Caroline Cooney who thanked her teacher for teaching her the value of a timer, reminding the rest of us that certainly anyone can do anything for fifteen minutes, so turn the timer on and write! Author Jane Yolen gave the closing keynote speech, and it might as well have been titled "Write the Damn Book!" for all the times she repeated the phrase. She demystified the process for me, encouraged me to pop the ballon of illusion that writing a book is any more holy than flossing my teeth or pouring milk into my cereal. Sure, those things are easier and we don't have much invested if our floss breaks or the milk spills, but creating doesn't have to be something that we judge mercilessly as we hobble along. Skipping and joy are allowed too in this process, and we don't need to take it so ever seriously! If I fill ten thousand notebooks with poop, the endeavor is still a magnificent and vital one for my soul and spirit.

The main thing is to keep on keeping on. When I use to play piano as a child, we would have recitals in my teacher's living room. All her students' families would come and park themselves on her couch and eat Mint Milanos while we plunked away on the keys in our best Sunday attire. My teacher whose name I can no longer remember unfortunately always used to stress for months ahead of my performance that if I screw up anywhere along the way during the recital, under no circumstances should I stop playing. Its the same way with writing- you don't stop just because you mess up. You just keep going and finish the song, story, image, book, whatever it is that you began with all your heart.


P.S. Can I just say that I love myself? I came home to find that I had bought myself Skinny Cow mint ice-cream sandwiches before I left so that I would have them when I came back! (my very favorite treat!) And since I have a bad memory for this sort of thing it was like a gift from my future ghost self (or would that be past ghost self?) Thank you Future- Past- Ghost- Self!